Idle Hands Ch. 05

It had taken him hours to get back to his penthouse. His first action had been to call Rachel Wainwright, the human woman who he knew was sheltering Althea's spirit.

He smiled around a mouthful of bloody meat. Wainwright's reaction had been suitably hysterical. The woman was a good lawyer, but playing unwilling host to a spirit like Althea Carpenter could break even the strongest of wills. He could hear her approaching madness in every word she said. What must it be like, to suddenly have another soul in your mind, driving you to more and more foul acts of self-abasement, unable to control your own sexual desires? Wainwright had sounded like she was one small step away from a complete and total mental breakdown.

Good, he thought. The bitch thwarted me in the Antioch Chemical case. Serves her right if her mind snaps entirely.

But Carpenter...I must have Carpenter. This Earth, this mortal realm, this zoo of stinking, breeding sheep. I have to escape it. By the Master's black soul, I have to get out of here! Back to the Pit, before I lose my own mind. Her death will be the payment I lay before the Master's feet in exchange for my return.

He lurched to his feet, ignoring the rags which had once been a four-thousand dollar suit clinging to his malformed flesh. Fontein's leg held casually in one hand like a chicken bone, he went to his desk. He turned on his laptop, going over once again what the corrupt officer had gathered for him before his untimely demise. Dried blood flaked away from his claws as he typed, the action surprisingly delicate and precise, despite his grotesque outward appearance.

Let's see...

Rachel Wainwright was a lawyer. But a quick perusal of her firm's website showed that she had recently retired, though she was still listed as a partner. He scowled, the flesh of his forehead bunching unpleasantly around his horns.

The cunt probably took the money and ran when Antioch caved.

Fontein had determined that Joshua Sunderman, Wainwright's until-recently estranged husband, had moved back into her house, the result of a reconciliation between the two. Kincaid smiled mirthlessly. He suspected the reconciliation was less a result of love and more a result of Althea's influence, her unnatural lust driving Rachel back into the arms of a man she despised.

She might actually thank me for killing him. So, no. Sunderman is safe for now, damn him. I want to hurt her. To pay her back for what she has done to me.

Ah. The children.

The daughter, Sarah, was apparently a complete slacker, having done nothing but sit around on her ass for a year after graduating high school. Fontein's research had revealed that Sarah Sunderman would be attending culinary school in a few weeks, when the new school year began at Kendall College.

Maybe I should pay her a visit. Kill her, gut her, and make her into a nice dish for Mommy and Daddy to find. Human Tartare. His mouth watered, sending drops of sizzling spittle down his chin.

No. It's too long to wait. He paused, his forehead knotted in thought. What did Fontein tell me about the boy? Something about acting school?

It took only moments, and his eyes widened with evil delight. Alex Sunderman, though supposedly about to transfer to Northwestern, was slated to play Iago in a production of Othello being put on by his current school, the College of DuPage, a cut-rate community college in the western suburbs. The premiere was only a few days away.

He leaned back in his leather chair and gloated. Rachel Wainwright, savor your madness. It will feel like paradise compared to what I am about to do to you. You'll be there, won't you? The proud little mother, watching her son strut around the stage. Then, when you least expect it, I will cut him down before your very eyes. Then I will kill you and that monstrosity you are carrying around in your pretty head. Then the pathetic remainder of your family.

And for dessert, I'll dine on the flesh of a succubus.

*****

"So how's the sword coming along, Althea?" Rachel asked late that evening.

Althea shot her an amused look, then looked at Josh, who was sitting on the couch, a sketchbook in hand. He had asked her to pose for him, and she was lying at her ease on a love seat, nude. As members of the family wandered in and out, sneaking furtive glances at her, she felt her body warm, readying itself for sex.

In fact, the entire evening had been steeped in a thick liquid haze of sexual desire. When Alex and Maria had come down for dinner, Althea had been surprised and delighted to see the lovely Latina maid leashed, led around on a leather cord which encircled her brown throat. She had been naked from the waist up, her dark skin gleaming with sweat, her nipples so hard with arousal they seemed to threaten to burst from her breasts. Her musk had risen around her like an invisible wave, and only Althea's pride in Alex's bravery in showing their desires in such an uninhibited fashion had kept her from diving into her sweet folds and tonguing her to orgasm.

Jeremy and Sarah had hardly blinked at the display, though Sarah had rolled her eyes at her older brother. Rachel and Josh hadn't even raised an eyebrow, treating the pair with the sort of relaxed, casual courtesy that only came when two people had spent so long in one another's company they barely needed to talk to agree. Yasna, on the other hand, had barely been able to keep her eyes off of Maria, and, to a lesser extent, Alex. Althea smiled in memory, thinking of the way the young doctor's eyes had devoured the pair.

Only a matter of time, she thought smugly, shifting slightly on the love-seat. She stopped when Josh gave a frustrated hiss.

"Please hold still, Althea," he said. "Or this is going to turn out to be the most horrible mess."

She smiled at him, charmed by his devotion to his work. "It's not like this is going to be the only time I ever pose for you, Josh."

He raised his brows at her. "Did you ever hear the story of William Manchester? He planned to write a three-volume biography of Winston Churchill. The first two books were amazing." He sighed. "Then the poor bastard had a stroke and couldn't finish the last book. He had to farm out the work to a literary executor.

"So I'm never going to miss a chance to create art, Althea. Especially when I have such a superb model to inspire me."

His words made her blush happily.

"I don't suppose anyone is actually going to answer my question?" Rachel asked. Her voice sounded a little snappish.

Althea held still, but answered the question. "The answer, Rachel, is that it's too early to tell. Once the metal is poured into the mold, all you can do is wait until it cools. By tomorrow we should be able to take it out." She gave a very tiny shrug, ignoring Josh's warning growl. "I don't anticipate any problems. We built a good mold, and sword blades aren't too difficult. And this sword is a one-shot. Once we take care of Kincaid, I'm going to bring Atashe' back here, so I will have it if needed."

"Atashe'?" Sarah asked, from where she and Jeremy were lying in a drowsy, snuggled heap.

"My sword. And yes, Rachel," she said, anticipating the next question, "I did name my sword. It means-"

"The Fire of My Heart," said Yasna. She smiled at Althea as the words flowed off her lips like liquid honey. "Of course, the full name would be 'Atashe' Delam.'"

Althea smiled back. Slowly. You have to draw her in slowly. "Indeed. It's Persian. I do have a liking for ancient languages. English is a mere child by comparison."

"Atashe' Delam. That's a great name," Alex said from the chair where he and Maria were sitting. Her bare back was leaned back against his chest, and his hands cupped her breasts, slowly stroking. It made Althea's breath catch in her throat, so beautiful the two of them were together.

And Sarah and Jeremy are just as lovely in their own way, she thought. More restrained. But not less passionate. Indeed, even as she watched, Jeremy gave Sarah a hug, his lips brushing her cheek. In return, she squeezed his hand, laying it on her flat stomach, her fingers entwined with his.

She opened her mind, letting the pleasure the couples shared flow into her. Power gathered in her mind. Despite the protective spells she had woven earlier in the day, she was gaining strength, practically on an hourly basis. Never had she been exposed to so much sexual desire at once, so much love. Seven sexually mature adults, six of whom were in at least one relationship, often more. At times she felt as if she were drinking from a fire hose. At others, she felt almost ashamed of the glut of power which was available to her.

As if in response to her thoughts, she could feel the lips of her pussy growing flushed with blood, thickening, engorged, and turning outward. The noose of desire tightened around her neck, making her breath grow short in her chest.

A man. I need a man. It has been too long. Weeks.

Who?

But in reality, there was only one choice. Rachel had worn Alex down to a nub earlier in the afternoon, even if he was looking satisfactorily recovered. And Sarah would not thank her for tempting Jeremy away from her. Although she was growing more comfortable with her, especially after their time together in the shop today, there was still a small undercurrent of tension. She sighed to herself. Jeremy was a lovely young man, and she knew from her sojourn in Rachel's body that he was a good lover. It seemed to her to be patently unfair that she should have to deny herself only because Sarah was resolute in her heterosexuality and saw no need to share her boyfriend.

Time, Althea. All it will take is time. Time for her to grow confident in her own beauty. Time for her to see what I shared with Rachel and Alex today will have no effect on their relationships with Josh or Maria.

But I want them all!

Patience.

Really? Okay. I want patience, and I want it now!

Josh must have heard her muffled snort of amusement, for he looked over the edge of his sketch pad at her. "Something funny?"

"It would take a while to explain," she said softly. She didn't move, but in an instant, her entire posture seemed to change, her lush, ripe body casually inviting. She stood, then walked over to where he sat, putting a world's worth of invitation into the four or five steps.

She held out a hand to him. "Would you like to come to bed?"

He put down the pad of paper, then looked over at his wife.

"Go ahead," Rachel said, her voice cheerfully indulgent. "You know you don't have to ask me for permission."

"Maybe," he replied. "But I know the day I don't is the day I'll have my head handed to me on a platter." He took Rachel's hand. His own shook slightly.

"Althea." His voice was quiet, but all eyes were on him. "I've never...I haven't...." He took a deep breath. "Until Sarah, I'd never been with anyone besides Rachel. Ever. And I haven't since, either."

She smiled into his eyes. "I know, beautiful man." She cupped his cheek, her fingers lightly tracing his skin. "Why do you think it makes you so attractive? When you love, you love deeply. You give your whole heart to your lovers. Just as your wife does. And your children. And their mates.

"It's what make you irresistible to me. And probably to all of my kind. It's not just the sex. Although that has been spectacular so far. It's your spirits.

"Come with me."

*****

As Althea and Josh left, Yasna let her head sink. Her face crumpled in grief, and she fought to keep the racking, tearing sobs from bursting from her chest.

Maria looked at her, then rose, drawing Alex after her. "I think we should go." She cast a quick look at Jeremy and Sarah. "Would you like to come to my apartment for a little while? Alex is the only one who has seen it since I moved in."

The two murmured agreement, and soon Yasna was left alone with Rachel.

"I should go to bed," she said. Her voice sounded choked in her own ears.

"No, you shouldn't," Rachel said. "Althea and my husband will be in her room. You know, the one you shared with her last night? I don't think you would be happy to see them right now.

"What is the matter with you? You ran away from her this morning. And now, when she is leaving you alone, you act as if she's your girlfriend and she just dumped you."

"I don't know," she moaned. Her heart felt like it was breaking. "I don't know what I want."

"Or maybe you do, but won't admit it to yourself."

Her head snapped up, her eyes glaring at Rachel. "I want her," she snarled. "All right? Is that enough for you? I want her so bad I hurt. I want to take her clothes off and spread her legs and lick her until she comes in my mouth. I want to kiss her tits and feel her legs and taste her mouth. And I want her to do things to me I can't even say out loud."

If she expected Rachel to be shocked, she was in for a surprise. The small, dark-haired woman merely raised an eyebrow. "Good. At least you're able to define what you want. So why haven't you acted on it?"

"Allah, can you even ask? How can I compete with the rest of you?"

"By realizing this isn't a competition, for starters." She got up and sat down beside her, settling an arm around her shoulders. Yasna leaned into the touch, so like her mother's, but unlike at the same time. A spasm of frustrated desire stabbed at her. I can't go on like this.

"I think I should try to explain some things about Althea to you," Rachel said quietly, "since I doubt she has taken the time to do so herself. The most important thing is that she is, by and large, a creature of emotion. Of feeling. Think about what she has told us about herself. She gets her power from the joy brought by sexual pleasure. By orgasms. She is very simple that way. Not stupid," she emphasized. "Never stupid. Merely uncomplicated. But she will respect your choices.

"So when she asks someone to share her bed, and that person turns her down, it will be some time before she asks again."

"I wasn't ready," Yasna protested. "And besides. She doesn't seem to have much of a problem asking Sarah again. And again." Indeed, it had become something of a running joke, the golden-haired succubus making more and more outrageous suggestions to Rachel's teenage daughter, who had blushed and laughed in reply, gradually growing accustomed to Althea's ways.

"No one is blaming you, Yasna. I know you've been hurt. Badly hurt. And I know you are confused by what you want. And whether you actually, truly want it. But you can hardly blame Althea for giving you the space you say you need.

"Wait. Watch. Rest. Heal. She will be there, waiting for you, when you are ready. But don't pine away waiting for her to ask you. You must ask her." She felt a gentle hand on her chin, turning her head up until she was forced to meet Rachel's eyes. Dark blue, filled with a wisdom that was not ordinarily given to mortals, they searched hers intently. "Oh, Yasna," she sighed, and pulled her lips down to her mouth. Slowly, gently, she kissed her, sweetly and inexpressibly tender.

After a moment, she pulled away, her eyes gleaming. Yasna's heart was pounding, her pulse racing in her throat and at the junction of her thighs. She blinked, confused. Why did this wonderful woman not continue?

"Because," Rachel said, reading her thoughts, "you are not ready yet. But," she continued, trailing a hand down her cheek as she shuddered, "you will be.

"Soon."

*****

Josh had barely closed the bedroom door behind them when Althea was in his arms, her mouth hungrily devouring his. The golden-skinned succubus clung to him as a drowning sailor did to a spar on a storm-tossed ocean.

"Lilith's Tits," she panted when they finally parted. "It's been so long since I've had a man. Three weeks. I haven't gone that long since I was younger than Sarah is now.

"I thought about taking Alex earlier today. But the way he and Rachel were looking at each other...I couldn't. And Jeremy is a non-starter at this point." She unzipped his jeans, her fingers reaching in to cradle his erect cock. "Oh," she breathed, her eyes rolling back happily in her head as he filled her hand. "That's just...lovely."

She stepped away, just a bit, so she could push down his pants. When she rose, he had it brought home to him once again that Althea was actually taller than him. He looked up into her face, realizing she was smiling down at him. "Do you have a problem with it?" she asked, reading his thoughts with almost frightening ease.

"To be honest, I think it's kind of hot. Like making love to Wonder Woman. Or an Amazon."

She laughed and pulled him onto the bed with her. He ended up sprawled on his back, with her draped across his chest and thighs. "Mmmmm," she sighed, wiggling around so she could breathe on his straining phallus. "I think I know what I want." She spread her legs, straddling his head. She slowly lowered her core down towards his waiting mouth. At the exact instant her folds touched his mouth, her lips embraced the head of his shaft.

Her taste was intoxicating, and as soon as her nectar passed his lips, he had no trouble understanding why so many men and women had fallen beneath her sway. She filled his senses; her taste in his mouth; her scent in his nostrils; her feel in his hands; her soft moans in his ears; her lovely skin, her sleek flesh in his eyes. He lapped at her folds, taking in more and more of her delicious dew. His hands clutched spasmodically around the glorious curves of her buttocks, pulling her down against him.

She giggled around his rod, and let it escape her mouth long enough to comment. "Enough, my love. I am not going to run away. You don't have to hold onto me as if I am going to try to escape."

"Sorry," he gasped, tearing his mouth, with difficulty, away from her sweet feminine core. "I just..." he trailed off, helplessly.

"I know, sweet man. I know." She filled her mouth with his cock once again, making love to him. She was soft and hot and wet, and felt lovely. His cock strained towards her, eager to fill her mouth with his seed, as she bobbed slowly on his rod. Her tongue was incredibly skilled, seeming to know instinctively the places to give him the most pleasure.

And why not? His thoughts were dazed, but he was not yet so far gone as to be incapable of thought. She could have pulled the knowledge out of Rachel's head at any time over the past two weeks. Rather than disturb him, the idea made him even more determined to return his pleasure to her. He used his fingers to gently part the wet folds of her sheath, allowing his tongue to find the pulsing nodule of her clitoris. As he fastened his lips upon it, she jerked under his touch, her mouth humming around him, almost like a purring cat. He drew it into his mouth, lightly flicking it with his tongue, using the lessons Rachel had taught him so well.

"By the Almighty, you're wonderful," she said, letting her head fall limply onto his thigh, although her hand still slowly fisted his steely length. "Though I should have known. When you made love to Rachel, I was a lot more than a mere passenger."

If she thought she could tempt him to answer, she was mistaken. He gave an agreeable hum, but kept his mouth on her sopping sex, urgently lapping at her angelic fount of pleasure.

Slowly, almost imperceptibly, she relaxed, until she was lying limp across his body, the only parts of her body moving being her hips, which slowly rolled her pubic mound back and forth across his mouth, and her hands, which gently jacked his aching rod, pulling him inevitably towards his own climax. Her breasts filled his palms, and he caressed the heaving orbs, wondering at the wonderful heft. The nipples were the size and shape of the last joint of his thumb, and stiffly erect. Althea writhed, slow and sensual, her slit trailing over his mouth, as he pinched them softly. Every minute or so, she would give a soft, high pitched giggle of pleasure, which often trailed off into a satisfied moan.